Sunday, July 5, 2015

stuck sick

do I wish I could erase them

do they need to be taken out of here
out of this me
out from my heart

to make room
so they'll stop catching my breath
blocking my moves

crispy loud, loud firework music. sick fake burnt papers and fuses all scraped strewn in the grass sipping chocolate window reflections not working not yet
crumbs too much sugar pressing hatred old too old too judgy too mournful
pretty flowers. summer lilies, purple weeds, sure whatever

the coffeeshop full of people who are outcast sunday studious why bother talking? let's just yes earphones wall-staring not quite a scowl but tilted unable why bother talking?

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